


Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time

by kblynne



Series: Dramione Song-Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking, F/M, No Sex, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Epilogue Compliant, Partying, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kblynne/pseuds/kblynne
Summary: Champagne, cocaine, gasolineAnd most things in betweenI roam the city in a shopping cartA pack of camels and a smoke alarmThis night is heating upRaise hell and turn it upSaying, "If you go on you might pass out in a drain pipe."Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good timeIn the face of this Covid-19 crisis, I'm out of work for at least two weeks (I live in NY). So, I asked one of my Facebook groups to suggest songs with the promise that I'll write a one-shot Dramione fanfic inspired by the song. This is one such story.Thank you Steffi for your suggestion! I'm so happy to have had this as the first story I got to tackle for this self-imposed challenge.Song: Don't Threaten Me with a Good TimeArtist: Panic! at the Disco
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione Song-Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673083
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Don't Threaten Me with a Good Time

“I’m going to head out!” Hermione called out to her colleague as she gathered her things. It was Friday evening, and she was leaving early to get ready for a special occasion. For the last year and a half Hermione had been working for a non-profit charity organization. Her eventual goal was to work for the Ministry of Magic, but she felt it was important to gain other experience now, before settling down with a family and needing to rely on that sort of job security. They were located in a small office in the muggle part of London, allowing her to move between both communities daily with ease. It was part of her plan. Of course, this particular benefactor she worked with had not been part of the plan.

“And just where might you be going?” came the silky voice of Draco Malfoy, who had insisted on taking a position in the charity that he funded. He had to redeem himself somehow, right? And who better to use for that redemption than the bleeding heart philanthropist herself?

“Just… out,” Hermione answered simply. Her personal life was none of his business.

“Just out?” Draco repeated her answer back to her doubtfully. “Honestly, Granger, it’s Friday night. Don’t tell me you’re headed home to read.” His mocking tone had the desired effect, as Hermione turned to him with an offended expression.

“As a matter of fact,” Hermione said, grabbing her purse from behind her desk. “I happen to be leaving to go get ready for a night out on the town.”

Draco laughed, further offending the Gryffindor alum. “A night on the town?” he questioned. “You? I suppose you’re going out dancing with your boring friends?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know that the people I’m going out with tonight are bigger partiers than the likes of you.”

“Well if you’re going, I’m sure I can handle it,” Draco told Hermione with a coy smirk. “Can’t be anything like the crowds I’m used to.” The Malfoy heir was a chronic bachelor. He was a good worker, yes, but if he worked hard, he played twice as hard just to make it worthwhile. Of course, getting drunk and hooking up with a myriad of girls would get old eventually, but for the twenty-two year old male, it was the perfect time to sow his wild oats.

“Ha, don’t be so sure,” Hermione warned knowingly. Hermione had never approved of the party animal lifestyle her cousin, who’s birthday she was going out to celebrate, embraced. The drinking she could handle, it was the smoking, drug use, and casual sex that she couldn’t get on board with. She knew that she would witness most if not all of this tonight, but she had always been very close with her cousin, and at least if she kept a clear head she could prevent anything from getting too out of control. “Besides, it’s not my party, and you haven’t been invited.”

“I’ve certainly never let not being invited prevent me from having fun before,” Draco said. He’d crashed more parties than he could count. It was part of what made it fun.

“Draco,” Hermione said, exasperated. “I don’t think you understand exactly what you’re getting yourself into. My cousin and her friends… They tend to get really out of control. I’ve seen it.” She could guess already that her warning would fall on deaf ears, but she had to try.

“Do you honestly think that I can’t keep up a bunch of muggles?” Draco asked, feeling much like his party-boy title was being threatened. He laughed at the very idea.

Hermione chanced a glance out of the window at her cousin who was waiting outside for her already, before turning back to the blonde. “Draco, if you try to do the things Stacy and her friends do, almost every weekend, you’re going to end up passed out in a drainpipe.” What had meant to be a warning had instead cemented Draco’s desire to join along.

“By all means, Granger, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Hermione stared at Draco for a long moment. “I bet you won’t make it to morning in one piece,” she challenged him. And so the two deliberated terms.

“Where should I meet you?” Draco asked by means of accepting the terms of the bet they'd set in place.

“Mayfair. And dress to impress,” she instructed him. “My cousin’s crowd is a bit… Well you’ll see.” To put it simply, if they hadn’t been related, Hermione would not associate with Stacey or her friends.

“Ganton and Kingly, eleven o’clock!” Hermione called behind her as she headed out the door.

Draco had never been to Soho, never had a reason to, but there he stood, on the corner of Ganton and Kingly, smoking a cigarette as he waited for Hermione and her kin. He had just exhaled a lungful of soothing smoke when he noticed them, coming down the sidewalk looking like… Well, nothing he’d ever expected Hermione Granger was capable of looking like. To be clear, Draco had seen Hermione gussied up before, at Balls and parties and other such social events within their own community. She was a very pretty young witch, he’d had to come to terms with it long ago. But seeing her now, in a skin tight black dress, six inches above the knee (which looked like a skirt and a strapless bra connected only by a diagonal strip of the same material), he had a very different reaction. Her pristine curls were half pinned back, revealing a pair of black and silver chandelier earrings that teased her shoulders as she walked, and those smokey eyes... She approached him with surprising ease in a pair of tall patent pumps, and held a silver clutch bag with only a small strap to keep it secured to her wrist. The sight of her had him so thrown that he forgot to check out the muggle cousin, who was more accustomed to being the center of attention.

“You must be Draco!” the birthday girl said excitedly, hurrying over and offering him a kiss on the cheek. He smelled rum on her breath already.

After introductions, Draco offered them each an arm, and with Stacey’s direction, led them just up the way to their destination. The club, which Stacey seemed to be some sort of member of because they were admitted when she gave her name at the door, was unlike anything Draco had ever seen. It was as if a bunch of circus entertainers quit and decided to open a nightclub together. The whole place was packed wall to wall with gorgeous people who were drinking and dancing and engaging in all other sorts of debauchery. The music was so loud he could hardly hear himself think, and there were colorful lights flashing and dancing in every color. Already he was realizing he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

They made their way to a reserved booth, sectioned off with a thick velvet rope. A bottle of champagne was chilling on ice before them, at least half a dozen flutes ready for use collected around it. Stacey hurried into the booth, and when Draco went to follow, Hermione caught his arm.

“Wand,” Hermione demanded, one hand outstretched to receive the item.

“Excuse me?” Draco asked with an annoyed glance. Merlin, she looked sexy staring at him like that. 

“You haven’t the first clue what kind of trouble you’re going to get yourself into tonight. Give me your wand.” He would have loved to argue with her, but she was probably right. He reached into the inner pocket of his blazer and retrieved this instrument. Hermione opened her clutch bag, which contained, amongst many other things, her own wand. He dropped it in, and she snapped the bag shut. “Thank you.” 

The pop of the champagne bottle drew the pair’s attention back to the birthday girl, who was now pouring the bubbly drink for the three of them. Without warning, she screamed in delight, and Hermione and Draco both turned to see four more individuals joining them, two girls and two guys. The lot of them shared hugs and kisses, while Hermione snuck a sip of bubbly before the toast could be made.

“To Stacey!” shouted a curvy blonde whose bust was bursting from her bustier, raising her glass. The rest followed suit. 

Despite being ignorant to the world of magic, Draco thought they seemed very ready to make the most of their mundane lives. “Who’s this?” the blonde asked when she noticed them.

“Amanda, that’s my cousin, Hermione. You remember her. And this is her friend, Draco,” Stacey filled her in.

“Actually, I’m her boss,” Draco corrected.

Hermione nearly snorted her champagne. “He is not my boss. You are not my boss.” She rolled her eyes.

“Really?” Draco challenged, just to get a rise out of her, really. “Because I basically fund the entire operation, your salary included.” 

Hermione laughed, she couldn’t help it. “An operation that wouldn’t exist without me,” she reminded him. “We’re partners, at best.”

“Oh wow,” spoke the fabulous male with the paisley pocket square. “Those two should fuck,” he said to the raven haired beauty with rainbow extensions peeking through who sat next to him, but they all heard.

“There’s not enough champagne in the world,” Hermione protested as she finished off her drink of emphasis. 

“Would one of you two lovlies get the curtain?” Stacey requested. Draco turned to see that their booth had the ability to be made even more private, surrounded by plush purple velvet curtains. Draco drew them shut, though he wasn’t sure what the point of coming to a venue like this was if they were just going to close themselves off. Most of the sound was dulled by the heavy fabric, which he supposed served to make conversation simpler.

Hermione was rolling her eyes again, and Draco was about to question what he’d done wrong this time, before noticing that the rest of the party were now seated around the table, and had extracted some of the “party favors” Stacey had promised. He realized now that she’d been referring to drugs. Wizards, historically, didn’t do drugs, not of the muggle variety, anyhow. He and his friends had experimented with what were known as “party potions” on occasion, which he supposed would be the magical equivalence, but they weren’t dangerous. Not like the pills and powders he was seeing on the table now. It seemed as though they were taking inventory.

“Scared, Granger?” Draco questioned with his usual challenging tone as he slid into the booth next to the busty blonde. He’d come here to prove that he could party like the muggles. He wasn’t going to be outdone this early in the night.

“Oh,” Amanda said sadly. “I didn’t know there would be so many of us. I only have six,” she said, holding up a small bag containing six blue sparkly pills that almost looked like candy.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Hermione said quickly. 

“Yeah,” Stacey added. “Hermione’s party mom tonight.”

“Party mom?” Draco asked Hermione, holding back laughter. 

“Someone has to make sure that these lot don’t end up in jail or hospital,” Hermione reasoned proudly, sitting in the booth beside Draco. 

“And bless you for that. I’m usually the party mom but I kinda suck at it because I just end up joining in. I’m Julien, by the way,” paisley pocket square introduced himself. “This Adonis-like stud is my all too straight step-brother Jackson,” Julien indicated to the third male of the group, who was currently weighing out a portion of what looked to Draco like confectioner’s sugar, though he wasn’t naive enough to believe that’s what it was. “And this spicy little number is Gabriella.”

“Sup?” The leather clad girl with rainbow and black hair greeted them.

“And how do you lot know the birthday girl?” Draco asked for conversation sake so that they might not notice how interested he was in what they were doing with their various substances. Even Hermione, who Draco assumed was not one to partake, didn’t seem surprised by anything she was seeing. Displeased with it, perhaps, but not surprised. 

“I work with Stacey,” Gabriella answered first. “And she and I are roommates,” Amanda said next. “Julien and I go all the way back to primary, and Jackson’s mum married his dad a few years back.” 

Draco got the impression that Amanda liked to hear herself talk almost as much as Julien did, but that was alright as long as he got the answers he was looking for, not that he’d care after tonight. Realizing how quiet the birthday girl herself was being, Draco looked over to see her rolling a five pound note into a small tube shape. Another note had been folded in half, and Jackson dumped a small amount of the powder into the crease. Balancing the folded note in one hand, Stacey used the makeshift straw to inhale the substance through one nostril in one quick motion, before passing it all back to Jackson, who took a turn. It made its way round the table to Draco, who, having watched them all partake, felt confident that he could mimic the action without looking like a complete novice.

Hermione watched Draco partake in his first dose of cocaine, having mixed feelings about how this night was going to go. As much as she wanted to win their bet, she certainly hoped he could pace himself and make it to morning in one piece, or at least alive. 

Draco didn’t know what he’d expected it to feel like, but he certainly hadn’t expected the burning sensation. If he hadn’t just seen the other five do it the exact same way he’d have thought he’d done it wrong. He sniffed back deeply, just to make sure he’d gotten it all in, before passing it back to the birthday girl. Hermione was helping herself to another glass of champagne, which Draco guessed was the only thing she’d be influenced by that night.

When they had tucked away all of their favors, they opened the curtains again, and the music blasted them once more. Draco sniffed deeply again, his nose aggravated by the offending blow and beginning to run. He could taste the chemically drip in the back of his throat. He guested that meant it was working, or at least that it would soon.

“I want to dance!” Stacey declared. They exited the booth, putting the velvet rope back into place behind them. They paired off for the most part, Stacey and Gabriella dancing with Jackson, Amanda with Julien, leaving Hermione to Draco. He tweaked his eyebrows at her playfully and offered his hand. Hermione rolled her eyes, but gave hers to him, allowing him to pull her onto the dance floor. Hermione had had a couple of preliminary shots with Stacey back at her apartment while getting ready, and those, paired with the multiple glasses of bubbly, had her feeling plenty loose enough to dance.

The club’s tight quarters left very little room for movement, creating the need for them to dance close together. Draco didn’t regret this at all. In fact he rather enjoyed seeing Hermione’s only half-covered body gyrating before him to the music. For the first time since Draco met her, she looked free, like she didn’t have a care in the world. She rocked and swayed with the beat, her arms rising overhead as she felt the music vibrate through the floor beneath her. Draco couldn’t resist putting his hands on her, holding her waist as he moved with her. He’d half expected her to protest, but she didn’t seem to mind. And then, to his dismay, the group rotated partners, Julien taking Gabriella, Jackson taking Hermione, and Draco being joined by both Stacey and Amanda. Okay, he didn’t hate this either. 

Soon Draco’s heart was pounding in his chest, which the thrumming vibrations through the floor and the repetitive beat of the electronic music made him hyper aware of. He could feel beads of sweat dripping down his back, and was glad he’d worn a dark black shirt that wouldn’t show such signs. His mouth was dry, and he was craving a cigarette more than ever. He pulled the pack from his pocket and showed it to Hermione, inclining his head toward the patio exit. He could use a breather.

“Smoke break! Yes!” Draco barely heard Gabriella shout over the music. The group of seven migrated outside, where Draco realized he didn’t have a lighter. Hermione had taken his wand. Luckily, plenty were available amongst the group, and he borrowed the closest. There was a couch and a couple of chairs available, and Jackson sat, Stacey quickly moving to join him on his lap. With her arms snaking around his neck, the two began to snog. Draco chuckled in amusement, but no one else seemed phased. He suspected this might be something of a normal occurrence. A moment later, Jackson pulled a small bag of coke from his breast pocket, and Stacey scooped some into her acrylic nail, snorting it quickly before offering a second nailfull to the supplier, and then resuming their snogging.

Hermione, who was neither smoking nor partaking in any sort of sexual activity, stood a safe distance away. She had a drink in her hand that Draco didn’t remember her obtaining, and was sipping it continuously. 

“Who’s ready to roll?” Amanda asked, withdrawing the small packet of pills from her chest. She passed her cigarette to Julien to hold while she opened the bag and passed out the party pills to each participant. Draco took his and held it. “Have you never rolled before?” Amanda asked him, since he didn’t immediately put it in his mouth as the others had.

“First time,” Draco confessed, but would show no sign of weakness. “Quite looking forward to it.” He hadn’t a clue what he was looking forward to.

Amanda grinned and took the pill from his hand. He was disappointed at first, watching her as she put the pill onto her tongue. He was going to protest, but then she put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, transferring the small tablet onto his tongue before pulling away. “Just leave it there to dissolve. It’s worth the taste.”

Hermione nearly dropped her glass, ice clattering to the floor as she spilled half of it in her effort to prevent it from hitting the floor.

“Oh,” Amanda said, turning her attention to their chaperone. “Sorry, Hermione, I forgot, Stace warned me he was off limits.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she looked at Stacey and back to Amanda quickly, before finally looking at Draco. “I did not tell her that,” she insisted truthfully. 

“Didn’t have to,” Stacey told her cousin, unashamed. “For someone you’ve been claiming to hate for ten years you sure don’t mind working with him now.” The group laughed, scandalized by the claim.

Hermione blushed furiously as Draco walked over to her. “Is that true, Granger? And here I thought you and I were best mates.” He reached for her waist teasingly and she smacked him away.

“Shut up, Malfoy. You hated me too. You’re just using me for my reputation.”

“And you’re just using me for my money.” The witch and wizard stared at each other for a long moment.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Julien began to chant, the others quickly joining in. Hermione’s face turned even redder, if that was possible, and she turned to go back inside when Draco caught her wrist, pulling her back to him and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. The group cheered while his tongue battled with hers. Hermione melted, her drunken state allowing her to embrace what she knew to be a terrible idea. The tablet melting on Draco’s tongue made its way into the mix, and it dissolved to nothing in both of their mouths before Draco released her in favor of much needed oxygen.

Her drink quickly met his face, soaking him. “You’re an arse,” Hermione told him, realizing that she’d just been dosed with ecstasy, even if only a fraction of what he’d consumed himself. She disappeared inside to get a fresh beverage.

Draco almost felt bad, almost, except that he was riding such a high that he couldn’t seem to regret it. “Well, I guess I’m in for it now,” he said, turning back to the group, who seemed unsure of whether to be amused or worried.

“Are you kidding?” asked Stacey, who had been trying to push her cousin towards her colleague all evening. “She probably just needed to go change her knickers, cause that was hot.” 

Hermione didn’t return before they finished their cigarettes, so they headed back inside, where Draco found her dancing with a stranger. Draco tried not to let that bother him as he danced with Gabriella, keeping Hermione in his line of sight. He had to remind himself that she was a big girl, she could dance with whoever she wanted to. But his hands were roaming in places even Draco hadn’t dared go, and her protests were going ignored. 

Draco abandoned his dance partner and crossed the floor to where Hermione was being groped, shoving the inappropriate stranger’s shoulders roughly.

“Hey, dude, back off,” the drunk muggle warned aggressively. “Draco, don’t,” Hermione warned as well, but Draco wasn’t listening.

“I think it’s you who needs to back off,” Draco insisted. He wanted very much to jinx the bastard and teach him a lesson, but he suspected that this was exactly why Hermione took his wand from him. 

“Listen, she’s plenty drunk for both of us. I’ll let you know when I’m done with her, alright?” would serve as the man's famous last words of the evening, as Draco had barely heard the offer before his fist met with the stranger’s nose. After that things moved very quickly. The two broke into a fight, and Draco, empowered by the substances rushing through his veins for the first time, was making quick work of bloodying up the unfortunate muggle’s face. Hermione could see security closing in on them, and barely dragged Draco away and out the back door in time. Stacey and the rest of the party followed suit as soon as they’d gathered their things.

“What the hell happened back there?” Amanda asked when they all stopped somewhere around the corner when they thought they were safe. 

“Some bloke was touching her in her bathing suit areas, and he went all Richard Gere in Pretty Woman on him,” Gabriella explained, catching her breath as she pulled another cigarette from her bag. The seven began walking. Draco had no idea what she was referring to, but it must have made sense to the rest of them. 

“So now where to?” Julien asked, since their first destination was someplace they probably should avoid for a while. 

There was no shortage of bars and clubs to visit, so they made a crawl of it, stopping for at least one shot in each location. They raced shopping carts from a blues club to a Shakespearean themed pub, before finally taking a cab to their final destination. Here, Draco was introduced for the first time in his life to the art of drag. Before the show, the group refueled with another dosage of blow.

Hermione was barely keeping up with the rambunctious partiers. Draco had surprised her, integrating himself so easily into the group of muggles. Even she was having trouble maintaining her usual decorum. Not only had she had a lot to drink, but the drugs Draco had quite literally fed her had her feeling loose and incredibly turned on by just about everything. When Draco pulled her onto yet another dance floor, Hermione could no longer resist his charms. He spun her, dipped her, and led her across the floor in some sort of freestyle tango-like dance. Neither one of them had ever felt more alive.

Hermione tried to excuse herself to the restroom, but Draco was reluctant to let her go, instead following in hopes that he could talk her into a bathroom quicky. “Malfoy, you’re drunk,” Hermione slurred, pushing Draco’s shoulders away so that she could close the stall door. She slid the lock and moved to the toilet.

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am,” he slurred in response, and lit a cigarette with his wand, since she’d left her bag on the counter with him. Hermione had just begun to pee when she smelled the smoke.

“Draco, you can’t smoke in-” Suddenly her voice was drowned out by the blaring of the smoke alarm. Hermione swore as she finished her stream as quickly as possible and made quick work of wiping. She emerged from the stall to find a very confused wizard with his lit cigarette still in hand. “Go, now, we need to go!” Another bar they wouldn’t be able to visit for a while. 

After that, things really started to get crazy.

Draco woke groggily, his head pounding and his stomach feeling all out of sorts. He slowly turned over, expecting to be alone, but instead finding the half-naked form of his sleeping colleague. He only had a couple of moments to admire the sight of her before his stomach lurched violently, and he rolled off of the bed, immediately tripping and falling to the floor. He looked at his feet, confused, to find himself buckled into a pair of strappy red pumps. He didn’t have the time to get out of them, his stomach continued to turn. He grabbed the nearest receptacle and emptied his angry stomach into it. Upon later inspection, it seemed to be a glittery plastic top-hat. He attempted to wipe the glitter off of his fingers on the nearest piece of clothing.

“Bloody hell…” After spitting as much nastiness out of his mouth as he could, he contorted himself to where he could reach the tiny buckles, and set to work freeing himself from the stilettos. It was not an easy task. Once on his feet again, he took a look around his house, which looked as though he’d thrown some sort of wild party. There was a large man dressed like a woman passed out in the bathtub, Draco noticed while he was halfway through taking a piss. The shock of this nearly caused him to miss the toilet bowl. He looked at himself in the mirror. At least he still looked like himself, if a little worse for wear.

In the living room there were people, muggles, everywhere, sleeping off the chaos of the night before. His liquor cabinet was bare, empty bottles littered throughout the room. “For fuck sake…” he grumbled as he found the fifty year old bottle of scotch he’d been savoring over the past year, in which only drops remained.

Draco heard a shuffling behind him, and turned to see the very disgruntled figure of his longtime forbidden crush wrapped in his bed sheet, moving slowly towards him. “Draco,” she croaked with her dry throat. “You need to get these muggles out of here.” She had no idea if any of them had been exposed to magic since the party multiplied and migrated to Draco’s London bungalow, which this morning looked every bit the bachelor pad it was said to be. “I’m too hungover to obliviate them…” she decided with a sigh. She looked absolutely pitiful, which was a refreshing and humbling look on her, in Draco’s opinion. He moved over to her and smoothed her wild curls down, before cupping her face in his hands and turning her head up to look at him, taking in the sight of her. Her makeup was smeared across her face, and there was deep discoloration spread across her neck. Upon further consideration, he thought they might be love bites, and suspected he’d left them there. Overall, she was a mess, so why did he still feel as though she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen? 

“I have some potions, come on,” he said. He turned her back towards the bedroom. “Did we…?” he questioned hopefully.

“No!” Hermione shut him down quickly as she walked with him. “It didn’t go that far.” They’d been far too inebriated to “do the deed”, for which she was now immensely grateful, but she did clearly recall a lot of kissing and a lot of touching. She knew it was the ecstasy making her feel so… physical, but Merlin had it felt amazing to have his hands, any hands, on her body.

Draco brought Hermione back to his bedroom, where he opened the bedside table and removed a couple bottles of hangover cure. He brewed batches in bulk regularly. “Here,” He said, offering one to her and uncorking the other for himself. He gulped it down in one, not bothering to cringe at the taste, as he was all too familiar with it. Hermione, on the other hand, scrunched her nose in disgust at the smell before forcing herself to drink it. They waited, still, for about a minute, as the potion did its job, and their headaches and stomach aches ebbed away to nothing. 

Hermione began searching the room now that she felt well enough to think straight. She looked between the wall and the bed, across the floor, under the bed, and in the mess of blankets and sheets, but no luck. She sighed. “I can’t find my dress,” she told Draco. Under the sheet she had wrapped around her small frame she wore only a lacy black thong and a strapless bra, and she didn’t much feel like strutting around Malfoy’s home in such lack of attire while she tended to the muggle party guests, unlike Malfoy, who seemed to have no problem walking around in his boxer briefs.

“You can grab a shirt from my wardrobe,” Draco offered, indicating towards the tall chestnut piece of furniture. She opened it and found a dozen and a half oxford shirts in different shades. She grabbed a white one and, with her back turned to him, dropped the sheet and put the shirt on in its place, buttoning it up to the middle of her chest. She was grateful that it was long enough to cover her otherwise bare backside.

“What the fuck happened last night?” Draco asked, hoping that Hermione might have more answers. She knew enough to know that they had not had sex, which was disappointing. Maybe she remembered the rest of the events. The last thing he remembered was watching a bunch of men performing in drag.

Hermione turned to Draco, smirking a very Malfoy-like smirk. “You lose,” she told him unhelpfully. 

“What do you mean?” Draco asked. He knew what she meant. They’d bet that he couldn’t handle a night out with her muggle cousin and friends. But that didn’t mean he had to admit his defeat.

“You threw up,” Hermione began to list off, indicating the vomit filled hat on the floor. “You don’t remember the night before, and-” Before Hermione could finish her point, there was a pounding on the front door.

Draco, forgetting that he was nearly naked, went to answer the door before the pounding could wake up all of his apparent guests. Hermione followed.

“Malfoy,” Draco’s very grumpy looking neighbor was standing there in a robe. He held Hermione’s dress in his hand. Face reddening, Hermione took the dripping wet article from his hand. The neighbor took the opportunity to poke his head in the door, observing the mess inside. “The next time you decide to throw a party, please keep it on your own property. My pool is not yours to use.”

“We’re very sorry,” Hermione apologized for the lot of them. “It won’t happen again.” When they’d gotten rid of him, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh, wringing out the dress onto Draco’s floor shamelessly. “Lets just obliviate these people and get them out of here,” she suggested. “I’ll show you what happened after.” 

The two went around the room, removing the last twelve hours of memory from each of them, except for Stacey, who was aware of the wizarding world, thanks to having Hermione for a cousin. Besides, it was her birthday. Let her keep whatever memories she managed to maintain. After effectively wiping their minds, Hermione and Draco woke them all and politely kicked them out of the house.

Hermione helped Draco put his home back in order, before summoning Draco’s pensive to the coffee table, sitting down on the couch. “Are you ready to see what you’ve forgotten?” Hermione asked, amused. She remembered most of it. Draco sat next to her.

“Let’s do it then,” he said. When at last he returned from the rerun of his night out on the town with Hermione’s muggle associates, he raked his fingers through his hair.

“Okay, you won.”


End file.
